


Late Is The Hour

by telperion_15



Category: Primeval
Genre: Anniversary, Community: smallfandomfest, Established Relationship, Fluff, Forgetfulness, Late at Night, M/M, Messy, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-04
Updated: 2012-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-30 14:45:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/332893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick is the typical absentminded professor, but Stephen doesn't seem to mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late Is The Hour

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written as a birthday fic for reggietate, using the smallfandomfest prompt 'Nick/Stephen, late night at the office'.

“Finished!” Nick declared loudly, as he scribbled a final comment on the final essay ( _Needs bibliography!_ ), and dropped the offending document on to the pile on the corner of the desk. “Is it just me, or do these get worse every year?”  
  
Across from him, Stephen finished reading the last page of the last essay from his stack, his expression only marginally less dismayed than Nick’s. “I’m really hoping we’re imagining it, because otherwise this doesn’t bode well for the field of evolutionary zoology.”  
  
Nick chuckled ruefully, and then looked at his watch. It was getting on for 10:30pm, and they’d been at it all day. “Well, at least we’re done now. Time to go home.”  
  
“Oh no you don’t, Cutter,” Stephen said sternly, placing his stack of marked essays next to Nick’s. “We’ve got that grant proposal to start remember? The Dean will be very put out if we don’t secure at least _some_ funding this year.”  
  
“Oh, can’t we do it tomorrow?” Nick knew he was whining, but it was late, and he’d been battling with substandard research and specious arguments all day. His brain felt like it was trickling out of his ears, and he vowed silently that next term he would ensure all his students knew how to write a _decent_ essay.  
  
“You know we can’t. As soon as those results are posted on the board you’re going to have half the class knocking on your door demanding to know why they didn’t get a better mark. And then you’ve got that seminar to teach in the afternoon.”  
  
“Well, we’ll leave it till the next day then.”  
  
“The next day is the _deadline_ , Cutter. As it is, we’ll probably be pulling another late night tomorrow to get it done at all.”  
  
“Oh hell. How did this happen?”  
  
Stephen grinned at him. “You know why. It’s because you always leave things until the last minute.”  
  
“I do not!”  
  
“Cutter, these essays should have been marked a week ago, and you know it.” Stephen leaned forward in his chair with the distinct air of someone about to start counting things off on his fingers. “Remember our trip to Brazil last year? How we nearly had to cancel it because you almost forgot to book the flights?”  
  
“I’ll have you know that we got a discount because I booked so late.”  
  
“And then there was that paper you gave at the conference in January – I distinctly recall you waking up the day before the conference started and realising you hadn’t written it yet.”  
  
“That meant I could include all the very latest research in it…”  
  
“Not to mention all your Christmas shopping, which you did on Christmas Eve.”  
  
“Everyone got what they wanted, didn’t they?”  
  
“And then,” said Stephen, his eyes twinkling suddenly, “there’s the fact that it’s our anniversary on Saturday, and you haven’t booked a table at our favourite restaurant yet.”  
  
“What? Anniversary? What anniversary? Oh bugger.”  
  
But Stephen was grinning again, and Nick took heart from the fact that his lover didn’t appear to be particularly angry. “I’m sorry, Stephen. I really am useless, aren’t I?”  
  
“Well, I wouldn’t say that _exactly_ , but okay, if you insist.” Stephen winked at him. “Don’t worry, I knew you wouldn’t remember. I’m used to it. And I booked a table on Monday – it’s all sorted.”  
  
“Sorry,” said Nick again. “What would I do without you?”  
  
“Descend into a chaos from which you’d never recover?” suggested Stephen seriously, although his eyes were still twinkling. “Oh, and it’s our two-year anniversary, by the way.”  
  
“Two years since I stopped being oblivious and noticed what was right in front of me, you mean?” said Nick, smiling a little.  
  
“That’d be the one,” Stephen confirmed. “But your obliviousness was all part of your charm, so I forgave you pretty quickly.”  
  
He stood up and stretched, his shirt riding up in a way that made Nick wish even more that they didn’t have to stay in the office any longer. “Come on, I think we can at least take a break for a quick cup of coffee before we get started on that application. I’ll put the kettle on, and you see if you can dig out some chocolate digestives from somewhere. I think we’re going to need a hit of caffeine _and_ sugar if we’re going to be able to concentrate.”  
  
The sounds of Stephen rattling mugs, coffee jars, and teaspoons made a comforting and familiar backdrop to Nick’s hunt for the biscuits, and Nick thanked his lucky stars that Stephen was willing to put up with his obliviousness and forgetfulness. He’d meant it when he’d said he didn’t know what he would do without the other man.  
  
He’d just located the biscuit tin in a cupboard when Stephen reappeared from the kitchenette carrying two mugs. Depositing his own on a shelf, he then set Nick’s down on the desk before reaching over and snatching the tin out of Nick’s hands, giving him a quick peck on the lips as he did so. Nick’s heartfelt desire to go home suddenly increased.  
  
“Uh oh,” Stephen said ominously, when he’d levered the lid off the tin. “We may have a bit of a situation here.” He tilted the tin so Nick could see inside it. There were only three biscuits left.  
  
“Well, that’s not going to get us very far, is it?” Nick said glumly. Then he brightened as he thought of something. “But you can’t blame me for this one. Who said they were going to pick up some more biscuits at the campus shop yesterday, and apparently forgot?”  
  
“Oh, ha ha, very funny,” Stephen muttered, but his grumble was good-natured, and he quirked a smile as he dropped back into his chair and picked up his mug of coffee. “I suppose it’s too late to go and get some more now.”  
  
“The shop will be closed,” Nick agreed. “We’ll just have to have one each, and share the third. It’ll have to do.” He took a slurp of his own coffee and tried to will the beverage to wake him up. It didn’t seem to be working.  
  
“Right then, let’s get cracking. The more we do tonight, the less there is to do tomorrow.”  
  
Stephen’s enthusiasm for the task sounded forced, but Nick couldn’t deny the logic of what he was saying.  
  
“Sounds like a plan,” he said. “Pass me the application form, and we’ll start figuring out what information we need.”  
  
“I haven’t got it, I thought you had it.”  
  
“No, I assumed _you_ had it, since you’re the one so eager to get working on it.”  
  
“Why would I have it? You’re the professor here, and this is _your_ office.”  
  
“So if I don’t have it, and you don’t have it, where the hell is it?”  
  
Together, they looked around the room, which bore all the hallmarks of an eccentric professor’s domain – namely piles of paper and mess on every available surface.  
  
“It could be anywhere,” Nick admitted.  
  
Stephen sighed. “Great.”  
  
“I don’t know why you’re so surprised. Haven’t we just established that I’m the forgetful one?”  
  
“I suppose so.” Now Stephen sounded dubious.  
  
“And since it’s part of my charm, that means you’re going to forgive me, doesn’t it?”  
  
That elicited an unwilling chuckle, and Stephen rolled his eyes fondly. “If I must.” He stood up again. “Come on, we’d better start looking for it, otherwise we’re going to be here until dawn.”  
  
Nick took another mouthful of coffee to fortify himself, and then joined Stephen in sifting through one of his filing cabinets. It was definitely going to be a long night.


End file.
